


'tis the season to hike

by tenderwrites



Series: #ushitenweek [3]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Established Relationship, Hot Chocolate, M/M, Mountaineering, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-26
Updated: 2019-09-26
Packaged: 2020-10-28 11:41:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20777984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tenderwrites/pseuds/tenderwrites
Summary: This is a story about mountains. To elaborate, it's about the realization about one's place in the expanse of the universe and how much the people beside you really mean.Or an alternate title; Wakatoshi's personalised love letter to Satori, complete with space metaphors and small but tender moments he keeps under lock-and-key in his doors of his heart.





	'tis the season to hike

**Author's Note:**

> #ushitenweek2019: Day 3 (Seasons)
> 
> I'm a big fan of toiling my way up mountains and the harsh bite of frigid temperatures, so here you have a short and sweet fic about that! 
> 
> (Yesterday I even climbed a mountain too, so you know this is authentic. When I got the peak, the stars were set on display and I was so taken aback by their beauty I cried.) 
> 
> But anyway, enjoy reading!

There's a feeling none like any other, away from the bustling and angsting of high-end metropolitan life and grey-tainted skies that frown upon worker ants with suitcases. 

It's piping hot chocolate and temperature that nips at skin. It's an expanse of blue sky and Earth-authentic mountains that rise up above to say hello. It's also snow-capped hardwood trees and mist hanging like a blanket below the clouds.

Wakatoshi adores all of these things. Despite the difficulty of trudging up the dirt roads of mountain ridges, he thoroughly, truly enjoys the experience of mountain trekking. The views around him that boasted ages and ages of growth and persistence made the biting cold worthy to bear. 

However, things are much different now. What was first a solitary activity soon became an experience that couldn't be done alone. 

"'Toshi, how much further do we have to go?" The strain in a voice Wakatoshi describes in prose every day in his head belongs to someone that made suffering all the more worth it. 

The voice belongs to Satori, who accompanies him on every hiking trip despite the difficulty. He knows how hard it must be for a summer child to be met with the freezing winds and for his lanky limbs to cross the rocky plains of valleys. 

"Just a few more hundred metres." His arm serves as a tether and with a heave, Satori stabilizes himself to it. 

"Okay, I think I can handle that." He exhales to maximise his oxygen and Wakatoshi helps him, the two of them joining glove-to-glove. Satori doesn't complain or give up halfway; he's determined to reach the top, much alike Wakatoshi. 

He only continues, stopping when needing to and taking slow strides. Steady and able are what defines their every adventure and by some benefit of the doubt, Wakatoshi feels as if he can take on the world one step at a time, with Satori by his side. 

That's how every hike felt like to him. 

Along the way of several treks, Wakatoshi spots a few patterns and quirks here and there. For one, Satori usually doesn't say much unless he's at the peak or at the bottom; it's when he finds a bird or some other animal that he disregards all of his fatigue to whip out his camera to show it from every angle. His eyes shine with a sheen of newfound joy and his smile speaks of an innocence Wakatoshi loves. His film roll is stacked with still-life images of squirrels, birds and monkeys, with the occasional bigger critter looking increasingly confused. 

The silence isn't a signal of dissatisfaction; rather, it's a quiet admiration of everything that welcomes them. The rustling of low-hanging trees and running waterfalls that trickle through brush and collect falling leaves serve as white noise in the background. It's soothing and sometimes, they stop just to find the source of it. Afterwards, they watch it go with its course for a few minutes. 

He's thankful for the small breather while trying to tackle giant obstacles. 

"There! We're almost at the top!" Satori shrieks unexpectedly, hands flailing and pointing at a sign labelled '50 Metres to the Top', which makes the strings of Wakatoshi's heart pull tighter in excitement. 

"Let's go." He squeezes Satori's hand as they traverse the last remaining distance. If Satori's energy renews and he steps ahead with puffed up red cheeks, Wakatoshi avoids a comment on it. 

His heart melts over like flowers coated in snow. 

Neither of them speak as they head up, goal in sight and eyes on the prize. The process may be duly rewarding and lends others a stepping stone to stopping and smelling the flowers. But when the finish line is straight ahead, the process is thrown behind and the final sprint begins, to witness a view of the top that reaps a panoramic view.

And there Satori and Wakatoshi were, standing at the edge of the final step, peering out over the horizon warily. Perhaps it was the thrill of the moment that raised their suspicions, but the exact reason didn't matter. Frozen with reverence, they take two or three more steps before recognizing the tingles of attainment and gape at the beasts of faraway mountains and the invisible boundaries of a clear sky. 

Satori, overcome by adrenaline, screams into the horizon with every ounce of his being. 

He reminds Wakatoshi of an individual unbounded by the constraints of reality.

"We're here! We did it, 'Toshi! We're at the top!" He collapses onto the ground on top of his haversack and lets himself pant, while pointing his limbs towards the heavens. "Holy shit, we actually did it. Climbed to the top. Wow." 

"Yes, we did." Wakatoshi's eyes form crescent moons with the way he's radiating and in an effort to add a little bit of comfort, spreads a quilt out. Satori wiggles out of his bag straps and rolls over, his face curling into the other as Wakatoshi settles down. 

"You're so warm." 

Satori giggles and fully stretches out his limbs to straighten some of the ache out. The feeling of being able to rest after hard work tastes as fresh as a sunny patch of daisies and he fully embroils himself in it. He bathes in the warm caress of the sun high in the sky and cranes his neck to behold the nearby mountains, years of tectonic shifting buried in its history. 

"We're really at the top, huh?" Satori exclaims, breathless. "I mean, just look at that view! You ever seen anything like it?" 

"Never in my life. The mountains are incredibly stunning." 

"Right?! The mountains, the white blanket of snow, the sheer drop of height that might actually seal our imminent doom--I got no words for this, 'Toshi." 

Wakatoshi tries to think of any term that might secure the perfect definition of their current eagle-eyed view but ultimately comes up short. All he can do is gawk longingly at the structures of miraculous nature and realise how small he is in the world, just a fledgling finding his goals and motivations. 

At the same time however, he feels vast; having Satori by his side and being exposed to a view meant for giants, Wakatoshi feels like a winner. 

He pushes himself up on his feet and he sheds himself of all subtleness, immersing himself in the world by the tips of his fingers. 

There. 

Now he can imagine that the world is his oyster, however much that may be untrue. 

"Wow. You got yourself some  _ pizazz _ there, big guy." Satori cracks up and his palms smoothen out the patchwork of their handmade blanket. 

"Yeah," Wakatoshi beams, soaking in the terrain. "It runs in my bones." 

Satori's eyes flare up like Christmas lights in the streets and he slings a shoulder over the other's back, leaning and sighing amidst the blue backdrop of the sky. 

"There you go again, always taking me by surprise." 

In response, Wakatoshi digs around in his bag and the familiar noise of metal clinking against plastic is like a melody to Satori's ears. 

"Is this a surprise?" He holds up their flask of hot chocolate and Satori makes a grab for it with his hands, lying his drained leg muscles on the soft grass. 

"Nope, not at all." 

He pops open the cap and pours out a healthy amount of warm brown, taking a gulp and breathing in delight. It sends shivers down Satori's back and he gleefully takes another swig at the cap turned cup. 

It's times like these that Wakatoshi feels the fulfillment of the universe's limitless size washing over him. Without the quilt and Satori to ground him, he would have thought he were floating in space, the star systems and galaxies surrounding his every angle. 

To him, Satori is just like those constellations. Unpredictable and heart-stopping, he shines so brightly on the lacquered surfaces of courts, in art studios and in every conceivable situation. He plays the string instruments of his heart like an orchestrated melody and his pure lust for the world completes the piece. 

Right now, Wakatoshi sits on the peak of a mountain with Satori rollling his feet in the tiny greenery. As they share a cup of cocoa, he realises that he's never dreamed and never dared but now that he's been shown a new perspective of the world, Wakatoshi hopes he bears it with two hands, right in the middle of his careful touch. 

And Satori, Satori, he holds dear to his thoughts and inspiration-brimming masterpieces of poetry and art. 

He cannot be captured in a single slab of canvas but Wakatoshi has the real thing. 

And nothing can replace the living, breathing and imagining Satori. 


End file.
